My First My Last My Only

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My First My Last My Only Page 11

by Denise Carbo


  It will be fun to train Olivia. I had planned to hire help in the kitchen farther down the road so I can build the catering side of my business.

  Those plans are on hold until I decide about whether or not I should move the bakery.

  Bill sent me an email a couple of days ago with potential commercial properties. All were out of town. There was nothing glaringly wrong with any of them.

  I should get back to him and have him set up a viewing, but I keep putting it off.

  I don’t want to relocate the bakery.

  The waitress brings the check and I pull out my wallet to pay.

  Olivia pulls her purse off the back of her chair.

  I hold up my hand. “It’s my treat. You had me over for dinner, remember?”

  She shrugs. “Okay, thanks. We can take turns. Next time it will be my treat.”

  After placing the money in the bill folder for the waitress, I rub my thumb up and down in the condensation on the outside of my glass.

  If I don’t relocate, then that means I go on renting.

  I can do that.

  What I can’t do is continue living with my parents.

  But if I buy a house, then I’ll have that much less to make Mitch an offer to buy the building when the time comes. That is still my ultimate goal.

  I can rent an apartment and still save towards making an offer he can’t refuse.

  “You look deep in thought.”

  I glance up at Olivia. The waitress picks up the bill folder and I tell her to keep the change. Once she leaves, I grab my purse and stand.

  “You know that life plan we were talking about?”

  Olivia nods as she rises and pushes in her chair. “Of course.”

  “I just came to a few decisions to help it along again.”

  “Like what?”

  While we walk out of the mall, I tell her about my plans to buy the building and move into the apartment falling through and about hiring a realtor to show me other bakery options and houses.

  Olivia stops. “You’re thinking of moving the bakery?”

  “I considered it, but I hate the idea. I’m going to find an apartment to rent so I can still move out, but keep the bakery where it is and go on renting until I can afford to offer enough money to prompt Mitch to sell it to me.”

  She starts walking again. “Have you talked to Mitch about it? Does he know you planned to buy the building?”

  “No, I hadn’t wrapped my head around everything yet. Now that I know moving the bakery isn’t an option I want to explore; I’m going to ask him how much he’ll accept for the building. He’s only staying in the apartment while he renovates the house he bought anyway, so once that’s ready he might be open to selling to me.”

  “That makes sense. You should talk to him soon though, then you will know one way or another and how much money you’ll need if he will sell.”

  “You’re right.” I should have talked to him sooner, but I had still been in the shocked stage of him showing up and buying my building. Then I moved into the avoidance stage. That didn’t last very long. We moved into the hesitantly open to friendship again stage. Now, where are we? Pretending to be dating for all the wrong reasons.

  We reach her car and pile our loot into the backseat. Granite Cove is an hour away from the mall. Olivia insisted on driving, saying she enjoyed it. I could take it or leave it, so I didn’t put up an argument. Olivia sings along with the radio and makes us both laugh. Her voice might not sell many records, but it is nice to listen to in the car. Much better than mine.

  I lean back against the seat and gaze out the window. I’m moving forward with my life plan even if it’s not in the way I originally thought. My social life is evolving. Olivia and I have hung out on two occasions and I believe we are friends.

  On Sunday, Monica stopped in the bakery and I broached the subject of attending her next book club meeting. She smiled and told me she postponed the last one because a pipe burst under her sink and made a mess, so they rescheduled it for tonight. She asked me to come and I said yes. Sally smiled and gave me her nod of approval.

  Monica retrieved her copy of the book they were reading from her car so I could at least glance through it and not feel left out when they discussed it. Thumbing through the pages, I got so engrossed with the steamy scenes I ignored the oven buzzer and burned two trays of cookies. I set the book aside after that and waited until I got home last night to read it. Unable to put it down, I read it cover to cover and then ordered more books from the author online this morning before Olivia picked me up.

  As we drive through town, I spot a familiar truck and can’t prevent the smile that blooms on my lips.

  Mitch is back.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I’m late. It’s full on dark with only a sliver of moon to shine any light in the nighttime sky. Clouds hide the stars.

  The steering wheel remains gripped in my damp palms despite the fact the engine is now cold. My foot taps against the rubber floor mat in a steady staccato.

  It took me a good hour to work up the nerve to get in the car and drive over here. I almost canceled a half a dozen times.

  Getting a social life and a hobby outside of baking be damned. The occupants of my stomach are threatening a mutiny.

  I’m late, and yet here I still sit staring at the small ranch house with solar lights lighting the pathway from the driveway to the house and a floodlight shining on the driveway. I parked on the street since cars fill the driveway and a few are parked along the road.

  Monica lives in a rural part of town where neighbors aren’t in waving distance.

  What made me think I am ready for this? Yes, I went over Olivia’s house and went shopping with her today and I had fun on both occasions. Except for her twins though, it was one-on-one fun, not a bunch of people I don’t know. A group I am expected to converse with and make intelligent comments. If I knew someone else I am comfortable with was in there, it wouldn’t be so bad.

  Yanking my phone from my purse, I dial Olivia’s number.

  “Hi Franny.”

  “Hi.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be at the book club tonight?”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m calling. How would you like to go with me?”

  “I’d love to but, I’ve got the boys tonight.”

  “I’ll watch them for you. You can go in my place.”

  Her chuckle echoed over the phone. “You’d rather babysit my demons than go to a get together serving wine and cake? What’s going on?”

  In a heartbeat. Kids are much easier. They don’t expect witty conversation. They just want to play and have fun.

  “I’m not a party person.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In my car.” Full confession time? “Sitting outside Monica’s house.”

  “Okay, here’s what I want you to do: Breathe in for three seconds, hold it for a count of four, exhale for three seconds, and then repeat. It will help you relax.”

  Nothing will help me relax.

  “I don’t hear you breathing Franny. Try it. It helps, I promise. I do it when my kids make me want to scream like a crazy person.”

  Fine, it can’t hurt, I guess. In one, two, three. Hold one, two, three, four. Out one, two, three. Repeat.

  “Better?”

  Dropping my hands into my lap, I take stock. My heart is no longer pounding, and my nerves don’t feel like over stretched guitar strings ready to snap. “Actually yes.”

  “Good. Now go enjoy yourself. This isn’t supposed to be a chore.”

  “What am I supposed to talk to people about?”

  “It’s a book club. Talk about the book. Tell them how you burned the cookies, they’ll get a kick out of that story.” Olivia certainly had when I told her.

  Frowning, I stare at the house once again.

  “Franny, no one will judge you in there, and if one of them does, then that’s on them, not you.”

  She’s right, I know she is, but it’s ea
sier to understand that than to put it into practice.

  “Open the door and get out of the car.”

  “Okay. Thanks, I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Oh no, don’t hang up. I want to hear you getting out of the car and going to the door.”

  “Really?” Laughing, I climb out of the car and lock it. “There, I’m out.”

  “Start walking. I want to hear the doorbell and everything, then you can hang up.”

  “Olivia, this is ridiculous.”

  “It’s helping isn’t it?”

  Looking down at the walkway I am now standing on, I must admit she is right. “Yup, I’m walking up to the door. Thanks for talking me through it. Sorry for dragging you into my piece of crazy town.”

  “Not a problem. We all have our own bits of crazy. That’s what friends are for, either to talk you out of them or join in.”

  Laughter bubbles out as I push the button for the doorbell. Monica opens the door with a smile before my finger leaves the button.

  “You made it. I’m so glad. Come in.”

  “Got to go Olivia.”

  “Have fun and I’m taking a raincheck on your offer to babysit.”

  “I’ll be happy to babysit any time.”

  “Hah, you say that now, just wait. See you.”

  “Bye.”

  Stepping into the house, I glance around the living room and spot several familiar faces, including Sally sitting on the green couch. She grins and pats the cushion next to her. Shaking my head, I skirt around the chairs set up and plop down on the couch.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you belonged to the book club?”

  “You didn’t ask.”

  Monica stands on one side of the loosely formed circle and taps the side of her glass. “Ladies, most of you know our new arrival, but for those who don’t this is Franny Dawson. She owns The Sweet Spot.”

  “Oh, I love that bakery.” An older woman sitting in a mint green club chair across from me throws both her hands in the air making her triceps jiggle.

  “Thank you.”

  “Introduce yourselves to her everyone. Franny what can I get you to drink?”

  “Water would be great, thank you.”

  “I’m Tina Swanson. I’m a teacher at the elementary school with Monica.” Tina’s hunter green sundress complements her blonde hair and green eyes.

  I smile.

  The brunette sitting on the chair next to her waves. “I’m Kerry Barton. I’m also a teacher, but at the high school.”

  I’ve seen them in town and in my bakery, but we’ve never talked.

  The older woman who said she liked my bakery stretches across the space between us and holds out her hand. “I’m Aggie, by the way.”

  I shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  A woman sits down next to me. Light brown hair brushes the edge of her jawline. Dark brown eyes, almost black, stare at me. “I’m Rebecca Terrance. I own the florist shop.”

  “Oh, you bought that last year, didn’t you? My mother is much happier with your selection and service.”

  “That’s good to hear. Wait, Dawson? Is Elaine Dawson your mother?”

  “The one and only.”

  Rebecca smiles and sits back, crossing her legs. She swings her foot letting the sole of her three-inch heel tap against the heel of her foot. “Your mother is a discerning woman and one of my best customers.”

  My mother insists on fresh flowers throughout the house. As soon as one flower wilts, she tosses and replaces the whole bouquet.

  “I haven’t seen you at the Small Business Association meetings. You should attend.”

  It’s on my to do list.

  “I’ve been meaning to.”

  “We’re trying to organize a marketing campaign for local businesses to participate in. You would be a terrific addition. The fare at the meetings would improve if you felt obliged to bring along confections from your bakery. Usually one of us brings store-bought packaged donuts.”

  “I can definitely do better than that.”

  “We are meeting next week at the library. Tuesday, seven o’clock.”

  “I’ll be there.” I swallow hard. Now I’m committed to go.

  “Great!” She grins and I return her smile.

  Okay, I’m stepping out of my comfort zone all over the place. No disasters yet.

  Monica hands me a glass of ice water.

  “Thank you.”

  She sits in a chair with a glass of wine in her hand. Jeans and a peach cable-knit sweater replace her normal school attire. “Okay ladies, what did you all think of the book?”

  Aggie fans herself and we all chuckle. “It packed a lot of heat.”

  “I’ll say, that scene in the shower? My pint of ice cream was soup by the time I remembered it was sitting on my nightstand.” Tina patted her pink tinged cheeks.

  “I burned two trays of cookies at the bakery because of that scene.”

  Laughter rings out in the room from everyone.

  Sally swats my leg. “No more reading in the kitchen for you.”

  Conversation circles around the book for several more minutes before drifting off onto tangents and small talk. Monica serves the cake she purchased at my bakery and there are a couple moans of ecstasy as they sample the chocolate nirvana cake. It’s three layers of chocolate cake with a one layer of chocolate mousse and one of white chocolate mousse, all covered in a chocolate ganache.

  Monica sets her plate on the table. Her bracelets jangle together, tinkling a melodic sound.

  “Franny, we rotate our meetings at each of our houses. The hostess supplies food and beverages and picks the book we all will read and discuss.”

  I can’t envision inviting them over to my parents’ house. I guess I could host at the bakery. There should be just enough room to fit all of us in front if I add a few chairs.

  “Next up is Rebecca.”

  Monica sits down and all eyes gaze at Rebecca who smiles and reaches over to her tote bag leaning against the couch and pulls out a book. She holds it up for us all to see.

  “It’s a thriller. I thought we could all use a slight change of pace after the hot and heavy romance this month. We don’t want to overload our hormones after all.”

  Aggie dons a pair of glasses and peers at the book Rebecca is holding up. Sally writes the title and author down on a napkin while the rest of the group snaps a photo on their phones. I grab my phone to do the same.

  “It comes highly recommended. My cousin said she reread it twice, so if it’s terrible we can all complain to her. She’s coming for a visit and will join us next month.”

  Chuckling, I put my phone down on my leg and take a sip of water.

  Rebecca leans towards me. “Let’s exchange phone numbers. I can text you the details of the business meeting and my address for next month’s book club.”

  “Oh, of course.” I pick up my phone and enter her information and then give her mine.

  “That’s a clever idea. Franny do you mind exchanging information with all of us?” Monica smiles at me.

  After a few mistypes trying to enter everyone’s information, Rebecca laughs and takes my phone. “Here, I’ve got a cheat.” She snaps a picture of each member and enters their phone numbers. “I’m always forgetting names, but I remember faces. So, I take everyone’s picture and add it to their profile. You can add more of their information later.”

  “Thanks.”

  Everyone snaps pictures of one another. Aggie peers into her flip phone. “I don’t think mine has that option.”

  Sally cackles after taking a picture of Tina and then shows the group her picture. Tina has one eye closed and looks a bit like a pirate because she was talking at the time and with the one eye closed it looks like she is saying, “Aargh.”

  Tina rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “That always happens. I have to be the most unphotogenic person on the planet.”

  “Oh I beg to differ.” Monica scrolls through her phone and s
hows us a photo of herself a family member posted on social media. Her eyes are closed, she has fish lips, and her hair is wrapped around half her face.

  “My dear brother took that while we were on the ferry last year.”

  Sally wipes the moisture from the corner of her eye. “Ah, brotherly love is a beautiful thing.”

  Monica laughs. “It’s become a bit of a competition between us now. Who can take and post the worst picture of each other?” She shows us the photo she took of him with beer spitting from his mouth. “I took this one after waiting for him to take a drink of beer and then telling him I stuck the tip of the bottle under my armpit.”

  We all laugh. Monica isn’t the prim and proper schoolteacher I pictured her as all this time.

  Aggie hauls herself up from the chair. “It’s past my bedtime. I need to get going.”

  Kerry stands and stretches. “I have papers to grade.”

  “Me too.” Tina stands and starts giving out hugs.

  I thank Monica for inviting me and promise to see everyone next month for the meeting and then I walk Sally out to her sedan.

  “Goodnight, Sally.”

  She pauses with her fingers on the handle of her car door. “I am proud of you, Franny. You’re finally coming out of your cocoon.”

  “It feels a bit like that.”

  She opens the door and turns back to me. “I overheard what Caroline Roberts told you about me.”

  Oh boy!

  “You haven’t treated me any different and I appreciate it.”

  I step forward and lay my hand on her shoulder. “Sally, I admit what she said threw me, but that’s really between you and her. I’m here any time you want to talk, but if you don’t…well, that’s okay too.”

  She squeezes my hand and stares off into the woods surrounding Monica’s house. “I’m not trying to make excuses, but I had just lost my Herbert to cancer. I had retired the previous year and we were planning to buy an RV and tour each of the states. But then he got sick and it spread so quick. It was over before I could catch a breath. I was devastated and in a bad place. In walked Charlie Roberts with his bigger than life personality and I…”

 

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